


Token

by murdur



Series: Love's Favour [1]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon, Sifki Week 2017, knight being seen off by her lover, or maybe some fantasy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 07:22:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12836154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murdur/pseuds/murdur
Summary: Sif makes ready for war and is offered a token upon her departure





	Token

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Sifki Week 2017. Prompt: **gifts**

Sif made ready, walking her charger Ylda up the palace cobblestone to fall in line with the other waiting warhorses.  The skin on the back of her neck pricked with a soft tingle, one she had grown quite familiar with. She was being watched.

She turned back towards the palace, her eyes searching. She found him, standing on the balcony dressed in all of his ceremonial finery and looking directly at her.

She spun back around and continued her duties, sheathing her blade securely on her back, and placing the light armor to settle on Ylda’s flanks. The horse stood steady, unafraid of the battle that awaited them beyond the walls of the city and across branches.

She was hoisting her pack and shield onto the horse when she became aware of the approaching footsteps, the determined stride ringing out over the bustle of Einherjar. The warrior turned and found his tall figure stopped before her, his green cape fluttered in the gentle breeze.  Sif noted the way his chest heaved slightly under heavy leather and gold plating, as if he had ran to the yard.

“My Prince,” Sif crossed her arm over her chest in salute. Loki dipped his head in acknowledgement and stepped forward. His eyes cast down, he lifted his hands in offer.

“Lady Sif,” his voice was formal but slightly breathless. “I wish to offer you a token of goodwill.”

In his hands, he cradled a handsome cloth of the most enchanting green.

Sif stepped forward, sliding her hands carefully under the proffered gift, ignoring the shock that ran up her spine when his skin met hers. Sif admired the delicate golden serpents embroidered along the edge of the supple cloth. The fabric alone would have made a fine favor to receive but when she lifted she found an unexpected weight to it.

Gently, Sif pulled back a corner and opened the handkerchief. Wrapped inside with a curved blade and a dual handle was Loki’s dagger. Sif recognized it as one that frequently graced the prince’s hip.

“It is my _most_  beloved,” Loki stepped closer once more. All sounds of commotion around them seemed to disappear from her ears, focused only on the confidential, intimate voice he now addressed her with. “I would be utterly distraught if any peril befell it.”

Loki reached up, dragging a finger along the blade, over the handle, and down to wrap long fingers around Sif’s wrist. The shieldmaiden found herself to be the breathless one.

“I would hate to cause any anguish, my prince,” her eyes flicked up to meet his with sincerity.

"Promise me then,” he leaned forward, earnest. “That you will see its safe return back to me.”

“I swear to you,” Sif lifted one hand and brought it to cover Loki’s hand, still encircling her wrist, with a slow, steady touch. “I will do everything in my power to ensure it finds its way back to your side.”

Sif returned his intense gaze, full of more than she could possibly name. A loud horn suddenly sounded, drawing their attention and signaling the warrior’s imminent leave-taking.

With care, Sif tucked the favored dagger into her tall boot and then offered her wrist to the prince once more. With tender care, he tied the green cloth around her wrist and then helped her mount her steed, still clasping her hand.

“Thank you, Loki.” Sif leaned forward and placed a kiss upon the back of his raised hand.

“Farewell, Sif.” Loki lowered his hand and stepped back. “Godspeed”.

At the sound of another horn, she kicked her horse forward to march with her allies towards the gates.

She turned to see him watching her departure, his fingers tracing the brand of her lips on the back of his hand, waiting her safe return.


End file.
